SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

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Part 3…

We drove for a few blocks from the coffee shop, made some right and left turns, and finally eased into the driveway of a small Victorian house. The place looked deserted; the dark and rain made it seem even more dreary.

“Where are we at?” I asked.

“This is my humble place, been working on it for a while, not much yet, but I have some good ideas… Let’s make a run for it…quick!”

He parked as close to the path along the front yard as he could. He, being on the driver’s side, had a much closer run. I took longer, plodding on the muddy drive around the front of the truck. Getting to the porch was another splash fest over the grass, which needed a good trim, but at least the porch was dry. After fumbling with some keys and an ancient lock and knob, we entered. Humble was an understatement. There were walls torn down, and floors ripped up. The only pathway of any use was next to the stairs, pointing straight to the back of the house into a kitchen, where we landed on some chairs at a table that looked like it came from a retired thrift shop.

He threw me a large bath towel, pulled down an indoor clothesline, and suggested I dry off a bit. I was dripping all over the well-worn linoleum. He had put on a cap before leaving the truck, which kept his hair and face dry for the dash to the door. He still wore it, and the look suited him fine. I couldn’t help but stare at the blond fringe sticking out from under the cap and the small bit hanging near one eye. He looked at me and had a slight smirk at how wet I had gotten from my longer sprint.

“Sorry you got so wet…”

I dried off pretty well, but my shirt was clinging to me, and my shoes were soggy. “Hang on…” He went down the hall to another room that looked like it should be the dining room, but was being used as a bedroom. He rummaged through a tall, built-in corner cabinet and came back with some sweats, a polo, and a few pairs of socks. “Here you go…let’s not get pneumonia!”

“Where, a…?” I looked around for a place to change.

“Oh, over here.” He pointed to a small room off the kitchen in the hall, a bathroom with a claw-foot tub and a shower curtain hanging from a circular rod. There was a rust-stained sink and a wood-lidded toilet, no door.

I moved into the corner of the small room as best I could to take off my pants and shirt.

“No fair,” he called out to me. “I mean, I remember you spied on me.”

I assumed he was kidding, kept quiet, still turned away from him, and quickly dropped my pants and pulled up the sweats. I walked out as I pulled the polo over my head, then sat on the chair and pulled up the socks.

“Keeping score, are we?” I quipped, with a smirk and a shake of my head. “You’re full of surprises, Mr. Danny, the Trainer.”

“I think we both are.”

When I looked up, he had unbuttoned his own wet shirt and began to take it off…then he pulled me up, placed the shirt on the back of the chair, and put his hands around my waist.

He looked at me long and slow, as if he were discovering me for the very first time. He scanned my face and my hair. He put a finger on my chin, then stroked my cheek and traced the edge of my ear. I just stood there watching those eyes. Pools of sky blue moving, searching, drinking me in. I realized I wasn’t breathing, and I suddenly inhaled with a burst. He looked me in the eye and asked, with his face, if I was alright. I nodded. Took a deep breath. Then he leaned forward and kissed me. I tasted the recent mocha on his lips. The way his hands cupped my head was so tender and soft. I reached up and felt his strong shoulders and back as I leaned in as well. It was all so gentle and soft, almost like he was afraid to hurt me…or maybe hurt himself? After a few minutes, I backed my face slightly away from his and looked at him again.

“You are so beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?” I was kind of kidding, as I was sure he’d been told that a million times.

He laughed silently, smiled, and bent his head.

“No?” I persisted. “No one has ever said that to you? Really? Danny, you are a kind and wonderful person, and you need to hear that. A lot!”

He bent his head downward, and I could feel him shiver slightly. I was embarrassing him again, but I couldn’t help myself. He was being so sweet and careful. Truly beautiful.

“Let’s get more comfortable.” He offered.

He led me into the bedroom, né dining room, where a huge mattress and box spring arrangement was propped up on some boards, just a few inches above the rough plank floorboards. We eased ourselves onto the bed and propped some pillows behind our backs. He started to hold me, but I stopped him. “Wait, can we talk for a bit?”

“Sure, I mean, whatever you want.” He offered himself openly, so innocent.

“I just don’t want to, I don’t know, move too fast!?” I asked and stated. “I mean, this is all happening kinda fast, I just don’t want to rush past all the good stuff.”

“Like what?” (With those damned puppy eyes!)

“Well, you told me you haven’t done this much. Maybe it’s good to keep the training wheels on for a while, ya know?”

I hoped this wasn’t taken as an insult, or worse, as a very wet blanket on what I hoped would become something very special. As much as I’d love to have sex, I also had a glimmer of hope that this could be the beginning of a truly special relationship.

I continued. “I just want us to really get to know each other better before we… You know… Just do it for the sake of doing it, ya know?”

He put his hand out and stroked my thigh. He smiled at me and said. “We’re going to have a lot of time to talk.” Then he leaned in and dissolved himself completely on top of me.

There was no way I was prepared for what happened next.

With his full body weight on top of my chest and legs, I was pinned down to the mattress. At first, I thought that he just didn’t want to listen, and I laughed at his boyish horny-ness. Then, out of somewhere a red ball mouthpiece appeared in his hands that he quickly stuffed into my mouth and secured it with a strap behind my head. He stretched my arms out toward either side of the mattress and slipped some rope loops around my wrists, and then, faster than I could imagine, he was down at the bottom of the bed, tying my feet with a bar and more rope, keeping them spread apart. All the ropes under the bed were pulled and tightened, keeping my hands and legs from moving. He had done this before; it was well-practiced and pre-staged.

I couldn’t believe what was happening.

Finally, he stood back, standing at the foot of the bed, looking down at his prize, grinning. I struggled, but the ropes were just too tight to let me move much. I tried to talk or even scream, but the ball filled my mouth, and I only produced grunts and garbled fearful sounds. It was getting dark out, and he lit a kerosene lamp on a small side table, then turned up the wick to make a brighter light. The one window in the room was heavily draped.

He came over with a pair of scissors in his hand and proceeded to cut the polo and sweats off me. Now I was lying there stark naked. I kept shaking my head—no, no, no. But he just gloated. I never felt so vulnerable, so scared.

Then he walked out to the kitchen and came back with his phone in hand, tapping out something, a text to someone from the length of it. He stared at the screen and waited for a ping to sound a return message, which made him smile, and then made one final tap.

“OK, we have some time to ourselves for a bit.” He put the phone on the side table. Then he sat beside me on the edge of the bed. Close enough to stroke my thigh again. Who had he texted? Who else knew about all this? My head was spinning.

He started massaging me up and down my legs and all over my chest, and out along my arms. I felt so scrawny compared to his tight, smooth muscles. He was smooth all over, and I had patches of hair on my upper chest and legs. He saw that my pubes were shaved, and he smiled.

“Makes it feel bigger, right?” He passed his hand over my little package and cupped my flat sack, small shaft, and head all at the same time. It all disappeared in his big hand. I moaned in fear. He lay down next to me, massaging and squeezing my small package.

“Pretty small stuff you got, huh? But how big does it get when you’re hard?”

He knew I couldn’t answer, so he put my embarrassing one-inch shaft between his fingers and started to stroke it as best he was able, more wiggling it than stroking. My little head wobbled back and forth.   What the hell was happening? Almost four inches would be the best I could do, and with a strange hand on me, I knew I’d get pretty hard, pretty fast.

He saw the fear in my eyes. “Shhh,” he said. “Isn’t this what you were hoping for?” he whispered. “To have some hot muscle-head play with your little dick and balls… Oh, wait, no balls, just a little, baby boy cock!” He was stroking and staring down at his working hand.

I lay there in complete bewilderment. What can I do? What should I do? He was right in a way; this was a strangely accurate fantasy that I had been conjuring for a long time, long before I met him. A part of me wanted to relax and let him have his way with me. A part of me still believed that somewhere inside him was the gentle, innocent guy. A guy that I had been bamboozled by – hook, line, and sinker! Was he that good an actor? Still, fearing the worst, that he may be some psycho killer, a dread of the unknown made me scared as hell…but there was nothing I could do…or was there?

I started to choke. I convulsed as if I couldn’t breathe and started to shake my head and roll back my eyes. This got his attention, and he looked up at me. I feigned pain and choked more. He quickly stopped the rubbing and removed the ball from my mouth. I breathed in deeply, coughed a little, and whispered a soft “Thank you.”

“You OK now?” he asked. Then started to bring the ball back up.

“Please don’t, I want to enjoy this and… Won’t I yell or anything, please? I swear, I swear!” Then I offered with a confidential whisper, “Please don’t stop…”

“Hmmm…You’re into this, aren’t you?” he said with some satisfaction. “You into a little SPH?” he asked.

“Yeah, I like that.”

Now it all made some more sense. He was a fellow traveler. Well hidden in plain sight. I saw the vault door fully open, lights on, stacks of pleasure everywhere.

He reached down to continue what he had started, and by then I was getting stiff. “So how big, little boy?” he asked again.

“Almost four.”

“Wow, never fails…” he said back to me.

“What’s that?”

He looked at me and continued in a whisper. “I’ve still never met anyone smaller than me. Thought you might be the one.”

I moaned in some kind of approval. “Let me see?” I begged.

“Not yet, later, first let me see what this tiny pathetic dick can do… Bet you never fucked anyone with this fucking little thing, huh?” he asked. That made me harder, and he felt it. “Not much skin to play with, pitiful.”

I’m uncircumcised but don’t have much loose skin. What is there, he stretched over my head and pulled as far as he was able beyond the tip. That happens when I’m semi-hard. Then he tried to push it all the way back, but could only get it down far enough to show the very tip of my head. I would soon be at my hardest. At almost four inches, the skin can’t cover my head, so it stays exposed and gets as sensitive as shit. My most vulnerable asset. I hoped he wouldn’t get too rough. He continued to hold the shaft at the base of my head and pumped his grip until I was like a stone, throbbing and stiff. With that, his fingers lingered on my small and pink, totally exposed little head. He saw me moan and arch my back in disapproval.

“Oh, sensitive are we?” and then proceeded to rub the most susceptible spot, on the underside, with more passion.

“Please, I need some oil or something, stop…stop, please…!?” I pleaded and squirmed for him to stop, but he just kept squeezing and rubbing my tender head more and more. He liked that I was in pain. I could tell it was his turn-on.

“No, no, please… Too… Sensitive… Please, noooo…”

Then, after a few more seconds of torture, he went down on me with his mouth. “Like getting sucked? Like giving up this little meat to my mouth, my tongue, my teeth…”

He started sucking on my head with his lips and kept a hand on my tight sack. He held back what little loose skin I had with two fingers as best he could. My head was tight and so fucking sensitive now, and I groaned in half pleasure and half pain. Then I felt his teeth try to pull up some skin, but it couldn’t reach, and they slid over my head with a snapping sound. It was beginning to be unbearable.

“Ahhh! Please don’t… Ugh… Ugh, I can’t…”

He tried again, but his teeth were too much to bear. I shook like a wild animal and begged him to stop without screaming. It was agony.

He slid his hands up and over my chest, feeling for my nipples. He found one and pinched it not too hard at first, but then raised his other hand and found both while he straddled himself between my legs and kept sucking on my poor defenseless fucking pink, and now very sore, little fucking head.

“Fuck man… EASY man, EASY…” I begged him to stop.

He looked up at me and, rubbing my chest, grinned at the pleasure he was giving himself and the pain he was causing me. I tried to play along as best I could, but my dick was getting so sore yet stiffer than I can ever remember; now it curved slightly back toward my stomach. That only happens when I am as hard as can be…. I was throbbing. Finally out of his mouth, my small, curved, and reddened little pipe jerked up and down on its own, and he liked watching it twitch. He kept rubbing my chest and nipples. He leaned in closer to my face and kissed me…this time rougher than before. Now he owned me, and he wanted me to know it. I winced as his jeans rubbed the underside of my tight and oh so sensitive cock. He sucked on my neck and cheeks and ears…he slid his tongue down my chest over each small hard nipple, lingering and licking on them for a while..then again down toward my cock.

“Gentle, please… Please… Gentle… I… I… Can’t…” I stuttered in fear and in anticipation of more pain…but then he looked up at me…

“OK, you’ve been a trooper, I’ll be nice…”

And with that, he pulled out a small jar of vaseline and put a small pearl of it on my head and shaft. He stroked gently with as much of his hand as would wrap around me, and it felt so fucking great. Slow and easy, my cock glistened in his hand.

I whispered… “Please stay away from the head, it’s just too sensitive… OK, please…”

“OK… Sorry.”

He changed his demeanor ever so slightly, but I couldn’t tell if it was all part of the act. He rubbed me slow and gently for quite a while, and every time I seemed to want to cum, he paused and then started edging me again…this went on for who knows how long, but I never wanted it to stop.

After a while, he stopped and asked me, “You remember seeing mine?”

“Yeah, sure. Looked perfect to me.” Then he stood up before me at the end of the bed, bare-chested, and opened his belt and fly. He dropped his pants and reached into his boxers and popped out his little guy, showing it off to me.

“See this, as small as they come, got a nice babydick. You like?”

He pulled the edge of the boxers under his small sack and let it hang there for me to see. He turned to the side so I could take in how small it really was. It was pretty tiny compared to his size and height, but very beautiful. It was just how I remembered it… With a bit of pink, loose, paper-like skin hanging off the tip. I smiled in fond approval.

“Like I told you, you need to be told quite often how beautiful you are…because you are… Perfect.”

He smiled and stood, allowing me to admire him and his gift. Then he flexed his arms into a few bodybuilder poses. He laughed as I smiled.

“You really into little dicks?” he asked me as if he didn’t believe me. “Seems like this is not new to you, the SPH and all… You into it?”

“Yeah, watch a lot of small cock porn too, you into that as well?”

“Yeah, have some, maybe share it with you later?” he teased me.

“You sure are full of surprises, Mr. Danny Trainer.” I smiled…

With that, there was the sound of the front door being opened with a key, then slammed shut.

“We’re in here,” he said over his shoulder.

What the fuck was this? Who did he invite over? My heart stopped, and all the fears that had almost disappeared came washing back over me.

”What the fuck?” I asked in a loud and scared whisper.

Suddenly, I was very aware of my vulnerable position, naked and afraid, still somewhat hard. Footsteps approached, and I never expected who arrived.

“Hello,” Linda said to both of us.

Danny had slipped his little cock away under his briefs and buckled up quickly before she entered.

Thumbing toward me on the bed, he said, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

To be Continued…?

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